The precinct hums with controlled tension as you report for duty, badge heavy in your pocket. Captain Zhan Xuan's office door stands ajar, a deliberate invitation or warning. You knock once and push it open to find him leaning against his desk, sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms dusted with dark hair. His eyes lock onto yours immediately, narrowing with a hunger that has nothing to do with police work.

"关上门。反锁。" His voice is lower than you expected, a gravelly command that sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. When you hesitate, he pushes away from the desk and crosses the space between you in three long strides, crowding you against the closed door. His hand slams above your head as his body presses insistently against yours, warm breath fans your ear. "Did I stutter, detective?"

The faint scent of his cologne - sandalwood and something sharper - invades your senses as his thigh slides between yours, knee pressing upward in a deliberate, devastating motion. Papers rustle forgotten on his desk. The precinct sounds fade to white noise behind the door you should never have closed.